


At the Rain's End

by Capzi



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feelings Realization, First Time, Idiots in Love, M/M, Nothing but Love for the Ladies of Avatar, Supportive Iroh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25659511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capzi/pseuds/Capzi
Summary: Breakups are tough. Especially when they lead to inconvenient and earth-shattering existential crises. Just ask Sokka, who doestooknow that being gay is a Real Thing, no matter what Toph tells you.Or Zuko, who has a slightly different take on matters but also a ton of other problems to deal with right now. Like finding time to train. And Sokka’s arms in that shirt.And also accidentally re-legalizing gay in the Fire Nation.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 859





	At the Rain's End

**Author's Note:**

> Toph is the only person who has ever heard of bisexuality, and I don't know why that is either.
> 
> I wrote this fic in a fury, but not in a vacuum. Many thanks to my pal E for being a tolerant sounding board, my workplace once again for their unknowing sponsorship, and [pencilscratchins'](https://pencilscratchins.tumblr.com/tagged/zukka) _very _excellent renderings of the boys. Teenage me would lose they absolute shit over this Avatar renaissance; it's the content we all deserve.__

* * *

Sokka hesitated. Gingerly, he sifted through the rough collection of stems in his hand, rolling the green back and forth. There hadn’t been the best selection at the market, with only one night left until Day of Peace. 

(Sokka, by the way, could not count himself as a fan of the title ‘Day of Peace’ to mark the end of the Hundred Years War. But certain concessions have to be made when your Avatar is a pre-teen pacifist. And gets to name all the cool stuff.)

Flowers were the way to celebrate the occasion, even here within the Fire Nation. Long, braided chains of red carnations across doorways, and delicate white lilies pinned to everyone’s breast, symbolizing the blank canvas of rebirth. Hope. Compassion for others, and belief in a new future. Y’know, peace.

And so Sokka’s thoughtful gesture was slightly spoiled by timing, the bouquet he carried studded with a few brown and scarred leaves and blossoms. It was the best he’d been able to do, but still it didn’t seem right to present your girlfriend with a lackluster gift after two months apart.

Sokka pulled free a few withered pieces as he walked to the hotel, thinking. True, he’d considered a much better present for Suki this time around. Had even gotten so far as to wake up in a cold sweat throughout the week, to hurriedly sketch some ideas in the middle of the night. It had come to nothing. That didn’t seem right either, thrusting a proposal on someone during such an emotionally charged time. No matter how much Hakoda hinted and nudged. And nudged. And _nudged,_ he got it, Dad, when you meet a girl that great, you gotta lock that shit down.

Sokka bounced up the steps to the little stone building the Kyoshi warriors had booked for the occasion. He didn’t bother to stop and ask which room was Suki’s, not when he’d know that laugh anywhere. Low and musical, usually with a gasp, as if it were being startled out of her, like her own happiness came as a surprise. He’d heard it near dawn, with the throaty tones of exhaustion after they’d been working all day but were unable to keep their hands off each other long enough to sleep. He’d heard it after a long silence, reluctantly drawn from her lips after one of his especially terrible puns. He heard it now, at the end of the hallway, and he hurried on, the bouquet starting to grow warm in his grasp.

He burst through the door, and before he could really _know_ , he knew, because Suki’s laughter stopped. 

This was not the quick breathless pause before recognition. It was the guilty hush of interruption. Without much thought of emotion, he looked at her, at them, slid to the floor in a tangle of sheets. Suki’s wide open eyes, and the girl’s slim, pale arm, clutching the edge of the bed. He stared at the easy, affectionate way they curled to each other, and still felt nothing. The girl lowered her gaze and pulled the sheet to cover herself, disengaging, but Suki rose upright, making no effort to conceal her naked chest. Her eyes were steady then, determined, and that was when Sokka came back to himself.

“How could you?” he asked softly, and his own voice broke the vague unfeeling, lit embers in the back of his throat that grew with every word, rising in power. “How _could_ you?! What am I to you? What _was_ this? Just a waste of time? A game for you to play until you could come back to what you really wanted?”

Suki’s gaze shook, but she didn’t look away.

“Not at all. You matter far too much to me for me to want to do this to you.”

“Then, _why?”_

The girl stood and Sokka realized her demureness had been practical; she’d somehow already dressed beneath the sheets and brushed a hand against Suki’s shoulder before leaving with a quiet, “I’ll give you two the room.”

Sokka watched the door close and rounded back at Suki, who sat at the edge of the bed with a sigh. 

“Do you love her.”

“Yes,” she answered simply. “Her name is Che. She’s one of the new recruits, from Omashu. Her parents were killed in the war.”

“Well, that is the prerequisite for joining our circle.” Sokka crossed the room and settled against the window cruelly allowing summer sunshine into the room. “Dead parents.”

“We met last spring. In training. She’d learned to fight pretty well with a knife in the city, but didn’t realize her skills wouldn’t transfer to fighting as a warrior. I knocked her down more than a few times before she was humble enough to ask for help. Not unlike you, actually.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Sokka asked, desperately. At the warmth in Suki’s voice, his own fire seemed to die down, cooling his heart, then falling further, wrapping his whole body in ice. Despite the sunshine, he shivered.

Suki smoothed her fingers over the sheet covering her lap.

“I guess I just needed you to know that it wasn’t intentional. I’ve done wrong by you, by keeping this lie, when I should have just been brave enough to admit the truth. But I wanted you to know I wasn’t seeking anything – anyone – else, away from you. That it just sort of… happened. The way that love does.”

Sokka closed his eyes, feeling, almost reveling in the pain of the truth. 

“Sokka, please know I never wanted you to find out this way.”

He snorted. 

“How was I _supposed_ to find out, then?”

There came a soft, steadying touch at his arm. Suki joined him at the window, wrapped up now in the sheet, nearly glowing where her bare skin was still visible.

“I thought you’d be later. The last I heard, you were traveling down with Katara.”

“No, she came early with Aang, so I came a day early too. I’m staying across town.”

“I know. I wanted to meet you early tomorrow, at the tea shop. We’d sit near the back, and Iroh would come by and talk us into some exotic marigold-dragonfruit-cucumber blend he just came up with. And it would be totally unexpected but good. You’d ask me about the new recruits, and I wouldn’t mention Che. I’d ask you about the tribe, and you wouldn’t talk about how your dad keeps pestering you to propose.”

Her arm slid around his bicep, holding him against her body, warm and familiar but not.

“Then I’d start by saying that we’ve been growing apart for a while now. In little ways. Not like falling out of love, just drifting into…something else. You’d protest, but I would look in your eyes and know you believed it too.”

They sat in silence for a long moment. The rise and fall of Suki’s breath felt smooth, a calm cadence against Sokka’s turbulent heart.

“You’d ask if there was someone else.”

“And then you’d sink in the ax.” Sokka couldn’t tell if he wanted to hold her closer, or push her off him.

“I wouldn’t have lied. That wouldn’t be right, to prolong the truth any longer than I already have. But I didn’t expect for you two to meet any time soon. Maybe a few months down the road, or a year, or never. I didn’t imagine an end to this scenario. I didn’t want to expect that you’d ever want to see me again, when I know that’s too much to ask of you now.”

“Yeah, it is.” Sokka looked down at his hands, still tightly clutching the wilted flowers. “I just. Can’t believe this is real. That you’d end things between us so easily, after all that we’ve been through together.”

“It _isn’t_ easy. You’re still the best friend I’ve ever had. That’s why it was so hard to think about, because I didn’t want to face the reality of hurting you.”

Suki let go of his arm and faced him head on, suddenly serious.

“But Sokka, the war has been over for three years. We’re not the scared, desperate kids clinging to each other that we were then. When I wake up now, I don’t automatically wonder if it’ll be my last day to fight. At home on the island, I see girls starting out their training, and know I’ll be there to watch them become warriors. The future seems so long. But also: so _good._ ”

Sokka understood what she meant then. He too had woken in the haze of adrenaline only to remember there was nowhere to put it, heart hammering into an empty place, confused but relieved. 

“So you don’t need me anymore. You’re ready to move on.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“I love you. I always will. And it’s okay if you can’t believe me right now, but I really do want what’s best for us.”

Suki touched his chin gently, steering him to look deep into her eyes, as she predicted. There was something new in them, something tender and patient and somehow – despite the terrible thing happening – something so very kind.

“What’s best for _both_ of us.”

Sokka blinked rapidly, and pulled away. He felt as though she had given him something. A gift, or a piece of understanding, or maybe an idea, like a cutting from a tree, taking root at a new depth inside him. 

“I have to go,” he said suddenly.

“I know.” She stood with him, looking as strong and beautiful as she ever had. She didn’t reach for him again. “You still deserve your apology from me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry it’s over.”

Sokka fell away from the room, barely hearing her, hardly seeing where he was going as he stumbled down the steps and out into the street. His throat was dry, his head pounded, his palms sweat, and his ears felt like they were on fire. Hadn’t he been angry? _Shouldn’t_ he be angry? This sensation didn’t feel like anger. It felt like being on the battlefield. Only he couldn’t see any enemy approaching.

He was still in a daze by the time he collapsed against his futon at the hotel, face first, arms spread wide. There was no way of telling how long he’d laid there by the time Aang and Katara found him. 

“Hey.” The bed dipped in as Katara sat. “Shouldn’t you be with Suki? Where is she?”

“Banging one of the new girls she met in training.”

“Wait, _what?!”_

Despite himself, Sokka couldn’t help but enjoy the gratification of having shocked the room. He waited until Katara shook his shoulder, then pounded him, demanding an answer, before sighing and pulling himself upright.

“We broke up. Suki’s in love with someone else.”

“With…” Katara hesitated, clearly sensing she was asking something upsetting. Aang still said nothing, just stared at Sokka with curious, compassionate eyes. “With a girl?”

“Her name is Che. She’s an orphan with killer knife skills. I caught them in bed together.”

“Oh, Sokka…” Katara’s mom impulses took over, and she grabbed his head to cradle him under her chin. Sokka let it happen; it was nice to be coddled, actually. “That’s awful. You must feel so betrayed.”

“Mmfgh,” Sokka made a noncommittal sound. “More than anything, I’m just confused. She said she wanted what’s best for us. What’s best for both of us. No, not like that, no” –both Katara and Aang split into almost comically sympathetic expressions – “not like trying to make me feel better for ditching me. More like…” 

The words were there, but he wasn’t sure he could bring them out. With Katara’s hands still warm against his face, Sokka felt deeply vulnerable suddenly.

“More like, she was trying to tell me something _else._ ”

There was silence for a beat. Then Aang prodded, “Something _else?_ Like a secret message?”

“Like a code?” Katara picked up the torch; after three years, being around Aang and Toph was starting to corrupt her.

“Like a mystery to crack?”

“Like a riddle?”

“Like a note in class?”

“Like a puzzle?”

“Like a secret tunnel?”

_“No_ , not like that at all!” Sokka decided the situation was much too serious to be derailed by inside jokes. “Suki was trying to tell me something about me, by telling me about her and Che.”

Katara frowned.

“But what does that mean, exactly.”

Sokka groaned and pulled away from her to nervously pace across the room.

“I don’t know! All I do know is yesterday I had a girlfriend and today I don’t, and I thought I’d be more upset about it, but instead all I can think about is this one stupid thing that might not mean anything at all.”

“You are upset,” Katara said simply. “You just had a long term relationship end, on the eve of a crazy, draining anniversary. It’s okay if you can’t sort out all your feelings right away. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“That’s right,” Aang nodded.

Sokka sighed. There was still a current of anxious energy thrumming around his heart, though he was able to acknowledge the kindness being shown to him. 

“Thanks.”

Another anticipatory silence, this time broken by Katara.

“So… she’s another Kyoshi warrior, isn’t she?”

“How the name of all spirits did you know that?”

Katara passed a sly look to Aang, whose mouth twitched.

“Ty Lee’s made a few… comments about what goes on behind the fans. Back on the island.”

Starting to feel like he was missing something, Sokka looked back and forth between his sister and friend, willing one of them to elaborate. Finally he was forced to ask, “And what exactly goes on?”

To his surprise, Katara laughed out loud and Aang grinned self-consciously.

“Sorry,” Katara gasped. “I didn’t realize you really didn’t know. But the warriors get together pretty often, romantically. Or physically.”

The dazed, panicked feeling reared back up inside Sokka’s brain, ringing an alarm that told him nothing, just asked, _What?_ and then, _How?_

“They _do?!”_ he squawked, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Like, collectively? Not just Suki and Che?” 

“Well, I know for a fact there’s Maya and Lily, and Amber and Min,” Katara counted off on her fingers.

“Sunni and Tika,” Aang added.

“I think Kam and Nhi are still pretty close… ”

_“All_ of them!” Sokka was starting to feel well and truly like he was no longer on the same planet he’d woken up in this morning. “And everyone’s just okay with that?”

Katara’s eyes narrowed.

“Why? Are you _not_ okay with it?”

“I did not say that! I just thought this was kind of a one-off thing! No one told me there was this institution of girls that… girls who… girls being… ”

“Gay?” Aang offered, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Yes, that!” Sokka sank down against the wall, miserable for no reason he could see. He realized he was still holding the wilted bouquet, and quickly let it fall to the floor.

Katara and Aang exchanged an indecipherable look. 

“It must be hard finding out you might not have been your girlfriend’s type after all,” Katara said gently.

“Yeah…” Sokka answered after a minute, swallowing hard. “That must be it.”

  
  
  


Zuko had a stomachache. Regrettably, this seemed more or less a permanent state of being now. He’d been at least slightly anxious since the moment he walked into the counsel room and realized every action he took – from recalling home all the troops to redistributing funds within the arts board – had a real, tangible impact on the entire world. Within matters of the state and policy, at least, he had his advisors to rely on for advice.

But pertaining to this problem, he was on his own.

It was growing late. Since assuming the throne, Zuko had been forced to appreciate the value of an hour, with almost all his days planned weeks in advance and sometimes down to the minute. Therefore, they were scheduled to have met up with everyone half an hour ago. Still, Mai lounged on the recliner, scowling as they refined one of their favorite arguments.

“Just tell them you’re busy.”

“I don’t _want_ to. They’re my friends.”

“And they hate me.”

“They don’t hate you! You’d know that if you ever bothered to talk to any of them.”

“What’s the point? They’re not _my_ friends.”

“Ty Lee will be there.”

“I know that, we write every week. I’ll see her tomorrow. Tonight, I don’t see why we can’t just enjoy your one night off together.”

Zuko grimaced, guilt and exhaustion dueling to make him wonder if the fight was even worth it; maybe he should just stay.

“No. I don’t want to do this again with you. It’s the anniversary and I want to see everyone. You’re free to stay or go, but I’m leaving now.”

“Fine.” It was remarkable how she could make that word seem like an entire sentence, sunk into a block of ice. Mai didn’t make the slightest movement from the couch, just continued to glare at him, but Zuko knew too well that if he hesitated any longer, he’d never leave.

He didn’t like arriving at the party in such a low mood. They always knew why. No matter how much he protested, insisted that the demands of leadership kept him up at night, even Toph could see clearly the difference between the stress of work and the stress of keeping Mai happy. 

“It’s important to know when you’re fighting a losing battle,” Aang offered sagely, after greeting him with a sloth-bear hug.

“Um, what.” Zuko briefly wondered if the Avatar could learn to read minds.

Aang smiled sunnily.

“The goatee?” He pointed to Zuko’s chin, effectively destroying any remaining strings of dignity Zuko might have held onto regarding his decision to try facial hair. “First Haru, then Sokka, and now you? Does turning into a real adult just inspire the need to grow a beard?”

“Yes,” Zuko said. He looked around instinctively at the mention of Sokka to, well, compare, but clearly the other had abandoned that particular urge. Sokka was clean-shaven, though a bit taller and broader than the last time Zuko had seen him, several months ago. He and Katara chatted with Ty Lee near the center of the room, but – Zuko idly observed over Aang’s shoulder – the interaction seemed a bit off. Katara kept reaching for her brother’s elbow, as if trying to calm or reassure him, and Sokka’s laughter was even louder than usual, almost hysterical, but didn’t seem to reach his eyes. Ty Lee cocked her head to one side, and leaned in to say something Zuko had no hope of hearing over the music. Whatever it was, Sokka seemed to find it highly offensive. He pulled free of Katara’s grasp and stormed off past a big group of Kyoshi warriors, gaze averted low.

“Well, I’m not gonna,” Aang said confidently. 

Zuko blinked, having completely forgotten their conversation.

“What?”

“Grow a beard. Even when I’m old and grey; I just don’t think it suits me.” Aang turned to follow Zuko’s absent expression in the direction of Katara and Ty Lee, who saw them and started over. “Hey, you alright? You seem a little out of it tonight.”

“I’m fine,” Zuko insisted as the girls arrived. “Hi Katara. Hi Ty Lee.”

“Hello.” Katara sounded just as distracted, but Aang didn’t comment on her. Instead he gave her a meaningful look and squeezed her hand gently. “No Mai tonight?”

“No, she… couldn’t come,” Zuko answered, with his own meaningful look for Ty Lee, who smiled a little sadly in return. 

“Oh. Well, hopefully she’ll be at the celebration tomorrow!” Katara seemed to remember herself. She wrapped Zuko in a quick hug, and when she spoke, it was warm and genuine. “It’s really good to see you.”

“And you as well. Everyone been comfortable then, staying in the city?”

“Everything is luxurious, as always. It sure pays to be friends with the Firelord,” she teased, and Zuko smiled. 

Ty Lee took her turn for a hug, back to her effervescent self. 

“Your aura is bluer than usual,” she said seriously. “Like a storm cloud.”

“Thanks. Aang, do you want to speak first or last at the ceremony tomorrow? If you go first, you can get it over with, but if you go last, things’ll probably end on a more hopeful note than whatever my speech writers came up with for me to say.”

“Day of Peace _is_ all about the hopeful notes,” Aang shrugged. “I can go after you. Just as long as we can cool off in the garden after; those fireworks get _hot._ ”

“We can definitely do that. The fire lilies are all in bloom and I had the pond refreshed so Sokka could fish. Where’d he go, anway?” Zuko aimed the question at Katara, but the whole group immediately began looking off into different directions, so forcefully it was if they’d rehearsed it. 

“He’s having an off day,” Katara finally answered. “He got some bad news this afternoon.”

It couldn’t be more obvious there was more to the story – Katara, Aang, and Ty Lee still refused to make eye contact, almost vibrating with the strain – but Zuko decided not to press. Sokka was his friend. He could honor him with the respect to find out whatever the problem was face to face.

“I see. So maybe everyone else will get a chance at the hor d'oeuvres for a change… ”

  
  


Sokka collapsed to his elbows on the rough rock wall framing the courtyard and let his chin fall heavy on his fists. He gazed helplessly up to the night sky, but it was cloudy, with not even a glimpse of the moon. He spoke anyway.

“Yue, you were supposed to be my weirdest break-up.”

“Yeah, the bar was high for that one. You care if I crash your pity party?”

Sokka whipped around, but of course the person striding out to join him wasn’t the spirit of the moon. It was a five-foot Earthbender cramming an entire fire pheasant pie into her mouth. 

“No, I guess not.”

Toph hopped up on the rock wall, still chewing, and let her legs dangle over the other side.

“Heard you got dumped.”

“Who told you _that?!_ No!” So it had come to this: his romantic life was a matter of public record.

“You’re about as good at lying as Twinkle Toes is at metal bending. S’okay.” Toph licked at her fingers. “Incompatibility of sexual orientation is a good reason to break up with someone.”

“But I didn’t think we _had_ an incompatibility,” Sokka mumbled. “I didn’t think that was really… ” He couldn’t say it. He could hardly believe he was even having this conversation with Toph of all people, a 15 year old girl with the tact of a saber-toothed moose lion.

“Really what.”

“Really a thing,” he finally admitted.

Sometimes it was hard to remember Toph couldn’t see, especially when she was capable of throwing so much disdain into a (slightly off-center) glare. 

“You didn’t think being gay was really a _thing?_ Literally, how have you even made it this far in life.”

“No, I mean, ugh,” Sokka slumped down against the wall, wondering if Toph would consent to just bury him alive so they could stop talking about this. She’d probably consider it. “I get that sometimes people are… gay, but don’t you just kind of know that your whole life? Like say, before you go along with a three year relationship with a handsome water tribesman?”

Toph lounged back along the wall like a cat, seeming to consider the question a while.

“I don’t think so. Romance and sex and stuff is hard. It’s not like any of us really had the time to just sit and think about it, before now. And anway, why should you have to choose? If you fall in love with a boy, and then a girl, it doesn’t have to mean you never loved the boy in the first place. Maybe you feel the same way about both of them, or maybe you were meant to love girls all along. Does it really even matter?”

She slid down to the ground beside Sokka.

“No. All that matters now, is that you are officially a citizen of Dumpsville, my friend,” she said cheerfully, slapping him on the back so hard Sokka felt his eyes bulge out of their sockets. “Welcome back to single life.”

Sokka coughed and laughed, suddenly feeling better than he had all day. 

“Very inspiring, thanks. How’d you get to know so much about this, anyway?”

“I’m gay, dumbass,” Toph answered serenely. 

_“What?!_ Since when?”

“Since I found out that kissing girls is awesome.”

Like Katara and Aang, she made it sound so easy, so obvious. Sokka felt lost at sea.

“Aren’t you too young for all that?”

“Oh please,” Toph waved a hand dismissively. “You knew you liked girls when you were 15, didn’t you?”

And to his astonishment, Sokka actually thought about the question. And realized it had several answers. ‘Yes’ was an answer, and ‘I don’t know.’ ‘There were no girls in the Southern Water Tribe’ was an answer too, and maybe it was the best one, but Sokka didn’t say it.

“I guess we should go back to the party,” he said slowly, getting to his feet. “I’m starving.”

“Try the fruit tarts before the Firelord shows up and commandeers them all for His Royal Girlfriend,” Toph offered. 

“Will do. And Toph?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks. For all that. I don’t think you were trying, but it actually helped.”

Another huge thud against his back.

  
  


Uncle said that all the talking got easier, with time and experience and not looking so much like an awkward teenager. Zuko guessed he’d just have to believe that was true, though he doubted he’d ever have Iroh’s easy way with words, especially in a former setting. Still he managed his way through the grand, thoughtful speech at the ceremony, thanking the three nations for their continued efforts at collaboration and growth, and calling on all of their leaders to keep reaching for more. As he spoke, he was mindful of Aang’s calm presence at his right and also Mai’s sullen quiet to his left. When he stepped away from the podium, she graced him with a quick smile that he found himself unable to return. It was time to gather his strength again to meet with all the delegates in a good-will, pseudo-casual luncheon finale to the days of counsel and planning. 

By early evening, Zuko almost wished Mai would pull her usual Let’s Blow off The World to Sit Alone in the Dark ploy, but today she was perfectly content to talk with Ty Lee in the garden, the two of them catching up on news that couldn’t be conveyed through letters while everyone else gathered around the pond. 

Katara and Aang were beckoning the turtle-ducks with bits of carrot, and Toph amused herself building miniature cities in the mud. Sokka leaned back in the shade of Zuko’s favorite tree, a little further from the others, so Zuko joined him there. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, Firelord.” Sokka looked over and immediately dropped his gaze to Zuko’s chin, in a complex, restrained expression Zuko was coming to recognize. Fine, the goatee had to go. “Fell prey to the siren song of the beard, did we?”

“It was just an experiment, I’m shaving it tomorrow.” Zuko settled back against the tree. “Nothing worth catching in the pond? I had it stocked especially for you.”

Sokka’s expression turned sheepish.

“To tell the truth, it just doesn’t feel right to catch food you don’t plan to eat. But it was a nice gesture! Really! Thank you, for thinking of me.”

“Oh.” Zuko looked down, embarrassed for not realizing something so obvious. Even after his years away from the palace, it was slightly disconcerting how easily he fell back into being a royal. Without thinking, he blurted out, “I should spend more time with you. I forget myself, all that I learned on the road, being holed up here.”

Sokka made a noise of agreement and tucked his arms up behind his head.

“Of course. I’ve always got time for an old friend.”

They sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, Zuko appreciating the coolness of the breeze and grass, feeling himself start to settle after the hot stress of the long week behind him. Finally, he remembered.

“I didn’t see you at the party last night. Katara said you were having a bad time.”

Sokka went stiff beside him, breath caught, silence heavy now. 

“What did she tell you,” he asked, low and urgent, eyes on his sister, who twirled a ribbon of water overhead toward Aang.

“Only that.”

Sokka sighed, seeming relieved.

“Suki and me broke up. It wasn’t quite mutual.”

Zuko laid a hand on his shoulder, determined to say something eloquent and helpful this time, a memorable piece of advice or insightful observation. A real moment of inspiration from the ruler of a nation, and a good friend.

“That’s too bad, buddy.”

“It sure is.” Sokka sighed again and sank his arms to wrap around his knees. “I don’t know, I mean, I was even thinking of marriage. That’s how it’s supposed to go, right?”

“So they all say.” Thinking about marriage, about a tie to Mai for the rest of their lives, brought an anxious, knotty feeling to Zuko’s stomach. It was one of his least favorite topics of discussion with her. 

“Dad’s going to be devastated. He was practically prepared to welcome home his new daughter at the end of this trip.”

Sokka himself didn’t seem quite devastated, Zuko noticed and finally had the good sense not to comment on it. Disappointed, yes, and uncomfortable, but not devastated. 

“So make the trip a little longer. Let the news reach him through somebody else, and you can stay here for a while; say the Southern Water Tribe has more concerns that need to be addressed with the Fire Nation.”

Sokka looked up, more hopeful than Zuko expected.

“You mean that? I can just stay here?”

“Sure. All the other diplomats will clear out tomorrow morning, so you can stay here in the palace. For as long as you like.”

“Then I guess it’s settled,” Sokka grinned, rising to his feet. He _was_ taller, at least an inch or two, enough that they were no longer quite eye to eye. Zuko found the change oddly distracting. “Katara! I’m living high in the Fire Nation now!”

As the siblings rushed to excitedly discuss logistics, Zuko caught Mai’s eye from across the garden, and immediately knew he would pay the price for not running this idea by her first. A suspicion confirmed later that night when they were alone.

“What do you want me to do?” he muttered from the edge of the bed, hoping to the spirits above and below that she wouldn’t give an answer. He felt as exhausted as if he’d had a visit with Azula, a double shift at the tea shop, and a six hour meeting, somehow all in the same day. And still Mai paced before him, eyes sharper than her daggers.

“I want you to _think,_ for once,” she hissed. “Do you really want to set a precedent for letting random people come stay in the royal palace?”

“He’s not a random person, he’s the ambassador for the Water Tribes. I’d be well within my rights to welcome him here even if I didn’t know him personally.”

“Well, the ambassadors’ work is over for a while now. What’s he going to do here? Do you think you’ll be able to just abandon all your responsibilities to go play with your friend?”

“You just don’t want me to spend time with anyone else,” Zuko said under his breath.

Mai stopped pacing.

“What was that.”

Zuko stared at her, wrapped in her dressing gown: beautiful, disdainful, intelligent, petty, tired as he was, and still gunning for a fight. He breathed deeply in, and out, and let something slide away with the air in his lungs.

“You don’t want me to spend time with anyone else, Mai. You only want me to be the Firelord and your boyfriend, and nothing else. I don’t want that! I don’t like how I feel when I’m with you! Ty Lee said my aura’s all storm cloudy!”

“What does _that_ have to do with anything?” Mai put on her most dangerous, low tone, but it couldn’t affect Zuko now.

“I’m sleeping in one of the guest chambers. You can stay here tonight, but I want you to leave by the end of the day. I’ll be working; I’ll send some servants to help you pack and set you up in a house in the city if you need it.”

“So you think you can end things between us, just like that?” Mai asked it flatly, like she always did, as if betraying even a hint of emotion would break her. Maybe it would. Zuko had had years with her to find out, and never did.

“Yes. I do.” He looked her square in the eye and for a moment, she couldn’t hold in her rage. Her fists clenched. He thought she might hit him. But she jerked her head away, and he turned to go.

“Your goatee really is stupid.”

“Yeah, I know. Goodbye, Mai.”

  
  


Sokka had resolved to not enjoy being in the palace _too_ much; after all, it was temporary, it was a lucky break, it was all a little grandiose for a Water Tribe peasant.

It was _glorious._

He woke up whenever he felt like it, always after the sun was over the horizon, in a bed bigger than his childhood home. He spent the days perusing the markets or wandering the palace, examining artifacts and weapons and maps, and the evenings practicing his swordsmanship in the cool garden. 

And the food. The _food._

At least one of the chefs was on call at all hours of the day (which apparently was very necessary when Iroh came to visit), so Sokka quickly learned there was nothing to prevent him from eating roast chicken-duck first thing in the morning, or fire flakes and noodles in the middle of the night. One off-hand comment to the kitchen staff about blubbered seal jerky, and there it was the next day, neatly wrapped on his bedside table. How could he ever leave?

The real gift though, was the solitude. Since accepting Hakoda’s appointment as ambassador, Sokka had precious little time to spend on his own, with no agenda to fill. The job was fine. He was well suited to do it, and it was better to be useful, using his knowledge of the world to help in healing, rather than sitting home getting bored and lazy. 

His restlessness surprised him. Following the war, he couldn’t have imagined being anywhere but back home again, at his father’s side. But it wasn’t anything like he thought it would be. Katara was gone more often than not, helping Aang and adventuring. Gran Gran had passed, peacefully, six months after the end of the war, so the place hardly felt like home now. And Hakoda and the other warriors seamlessly assumed their old roles, building back up the village with assistance from the Northern Tribe. It was well on its way to becoming a proper city, with real roads and families and Benders carving the sparkling landscape. A proper city, but not Sokka’s village anymore. Only Hakoda made it a home, and Sokka hardly knew how to behave around his dad now, with no history of peacetime, of ease between them.

He thought about all this, walking the halls of the palace after a few days of being left to his own devices. Few people were out in late afternoon, the hottest part of the day. Most of the city, including many of the servants, laid down for a rest, and so he met no one in the dimly lit hallways. 

He wasn’t especially tired, but was considering a nap himself, when the sound of another set of boots rounded the corner and a moment later, Zuko was there. 

Sokka hadn’t seen him since Day of Peace, but didn’t think much of it; the Firelord was probably the busiest person in the whole world. He was thrown though, by how exhausted and unhappy Zuko looked.

“Flameo, hotman.” Sokka raised a hand in greeting, hoping for a smile at their dumb joke. He got a mild grimace, Zuko’s mouth moving like it couldn’t quite remember the motion. He had shaved, and looked much more like himself again.

“Hello. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I may never leave,” Sokka sang, opening his arms wide. “It’s exactly what I needed: a fucking break.”

“That’s good. Sorry I haven’t been around much. Duty calls and all that.”

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve been fine on my own.”

They continued down the hall, easily falling into step beside each other. 

“Speaking of sweat,” Sokka noted, gesturing to Zuko’s formal regalia. “I’ve only been here a few days and awesome as it is, I kind of want to tear all my clothes off and go dip in the pond by this time of day; how on earth do you survive in those robes all summer?”

Zuko eyed his thin shirt and exposed arms with something that could have been envy, or could have been something else entirely. 

“I’m built for the heat better than you. If it’s any consolation, I almost died chasing Aang at the North Pole, and I froze my ass off that time I destroyed your village.”

“Those memories do help, yeah.” 

They walked a bit longer, until they reached a room Sokka knew now was a study and Zuko sighed.

“I have to go. I have six proposals to read and sign off on before tomorrow, but… let’s meet in the garden at sundown. Bring your sword; I haven’t sparred in ages and it’ll be cool then.”

“Oh, absolutely yes.” Sokka’s heart leapt at both the prospect of something to do, and an opponent. “You better watch your pampered, royal hiney, because I am coming for it.”

Zuko smiled a real smile then, and seemed to lose some of his tiredness.

“We’ll see about that. See you tonight, hotman.”

“Hotman,” Sokka inclined his head. 

The rest of the day passed easily, with something to look forward to. Sokka polished his blade, went through a few exercises on his own, and dressed in one of his market finds, a fitted tunic and pants in Fire Nation red, and gold embroidery. It was always nice to wear clothes that existed for more than just function, score one more reluctant point to the Fire Nation.

Zuko arrived to the garden a few minutes past sundown, when the green space glowed with the warmth of the setting sun. It was finally cool enough to move easily, and still light enough to see. He was dressed casually, all in black. 

Sokka nodded to acknowledge him, sword at the ready. Zuko drew his broadswords, and wasted no time with formalities or preamble: he absolutely threw himself at Sokka like they were still just the Fire Nation prince and Avatar’s friend. 

Sokka retreated to hold off the weight of the blows, startled but pleased by the intensity of the match. Zuko was ruthless, striking with so much ferocity his teeth were clenched from the strain. He was a little _too_ ruthless, Sokka realized, easily parrying a sloppy thrust to his chest. Zuko fought like a man out of practice, risking too much and exerting himself needlessly. Sokka crouched slightly, and sent another wild blow up overhead, forcing Zuko to the other side of the garden.

Sokka rolled out his shoulder languidly.

“What’d I say about your ass again?”

“This isn’t over yet,” Zuko gasped. He resumed his stance, wider and lower to match Sokka, and struck again, landing his right sword with a soft grunt and glint of steel above Sokka’s left eye. Sokka threw off the connection and assumed the offense, aiming a blow at Zuko’s throat that came inches away from meeting its mark. Zuko’s eyes widened.

Almost calmly, Sokka thrust Zuko back across the garden, step by step, feeling the power behind both swords diminish slightly. Zuko panted with the effort of keeping him at bay, their gazes locked, until Zuko’s boot hit the mud near the pond. He slipped a little, then reared back suddenly and came at Sokka blazing, just as spirited as he had in the beginning. 

Sokka grinned, couldn’t help himself. It was the most fun he’d had in ages, fighting just for the joy of it and watching Zuko remember his way through. Together they bobbed and weaved through the dusk, jolting at each collision and re-learning the movements of one another.

Finally, as all the light faded, they both collapsed to the grass. Zuko’s head fell just beyond Sokka’s, and for a few minutes, they lay still, gasping for breath. 

Sokka licked his dry lips.

“You haven’t been keeping up with your training.”

Zuko huffed and turned to face him, his good eye obscured against the grass.

“You try finding time to practice while running a country.” His voice was low, scratchy with exhaustion. “And everyone’s too afraid to spar with me, anyway.”

“I’ll do it,” Sokka answered lazily. “Whenever you want. You need it and you don’t scare me, Firelord.”

Zuko watched him a moment longer, before pulling reluctantly to his feet. 

“C’mon. Let’s get something to eat.”

“What about your reports or whatever?” Sokka dragged himself upright as well and followed Zuko back inside. 

“I’ll skim the last one in the morning. Let me show you some proper hospitality tonight.”

And so they sat down to a magnificent spread in Zuko’s rooms, the torches lit low and the courses laid out like little islands on the black lacquer table. Either by design or some gesture by Zuko, the servants disappeared after presenting a bottle of hot sake and did not return, leaving the two of them in comfortable seclusion. 

Sokka ate heartily after the evening’s exercise. Zuko just picked at his food, but he drank deeply, offering the bottle often enough that Sokka began to feel warm long before dessert. It was a nice sensation, feeling loose and relaxed, belly full, making Zuko smile with stories about his mishaps on the road.

“… and then _I_ said, Lady, how many times have _you_ visited the Spirit World? There is no guardian spirit of toe jam, and if there were, even he couldn’t help you now, fuck.”

Zuko snorted and swayed against the table.

“You always get into the craziest stuff.”

“Like a magnet for madness. A beacon for the wolf-batshit.” Sokka delicately swirled his sake and drained it. Zuko was ready with a refill, so he quickly returned the favor. 

“So anyway. Sorry I didn’t ask sooner, but where’s Mai?”

Zuko looked down into the depths of his sake, as if seeking the answer there.

“We split up,” he finally admitted. “I, uh, kind of threw her out, actually.”

“You did _what?!”_ Sokka stared with rapt attention, wondering how on earth Zuko managed to keep such a secret all day.

“It was after the Day of Peace celebration. She was getting after me for inviting you here and something in me just snapped.” Zuko paused to take another drink. “I was so tired of that. Tired of her telling me what to do and not to do and making me feel like an idiot for wanting anything she thought was stupid. Which was almost everything.”

He fell back gloomily. 

“I don’t regret it at all. We were no good for each other, it’s like being with me made her as crazy as it made me. But it was expected; her family couldn’t understand why I hadn’t moved them all into the palace already. She would have made a good match, just not a good wife.”

“Expectations. Marriage. Family.” Sokka exhaled heavily. At least his break-up didn’t have political consequences. “Listen, I’m sorry. I’ve never been on that side of the table for ending things with someone, but I know it can’t have been easy to make the decision, especially knowing how many people all your choices affect.”

Zuko rolled his cup between his palms and surprised Sokka with a smile.

“That’s very diplomatic of you, Ambassador. I know you guys never liked Mai.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?! Noooooooooo…” Okay, Sokka could see what Toph meant about the lying. To be fair, he was now pretty well inebriated and Mai was just… 

“Didn’t you like her, though?”

Zuko looked up with a dumbfounded expression. He seemed surprised, and confused, and an odd impulse in Sokka’s brain likened this moment to Toph asking if he’d liked girls at 15. 

“I don’t know,” Zuko said slowly, mirroring the memory even more. “She was just always there. I didn’t really get to choose much, as a kid, and then I was gone, and then there she was again. She said she loved me, so I believed her.”

Sokka took a long, thoughtful sip.

“I guess we don’t always know how to love others in the ways they want to be loved.”

Zuko stared at him for a long few seconds, long enough that he started to vaguely wonder if it’d been a stupid thing to say. But then Zuko reached up and pulled free his crown, releasing the wrap around it. His hair fell to his shoulders now, and he swept it away from his scar before proffering the gold piece to Sokka.

“You are so fucking smart. _You_ should be Firelord, take my crown, take everything.”

“I’ll just take some more sake, thanks,” Sokka held out his cup, grinning. “Wow, so that’s it then? Look at us. Two bachelors, back on the prowl.”

Zuko settled on his cushion, fiddling with his crown.

“You prowl. I’ve got enough to do without looking for romance.”

“True enough.” Sokka locked his hands behind his head and leaned back against the wall. “A man too busy to train, is a man too busy to date.”

Zuko idly pulled a strand of hair over his shoulder and slipped it up and down his fingers. He finally looked relaxed, almost lazy, his hand moving through the well-worn gesture with ease. 

“When did your biceps get bigger than mine?”

There was a moment of pause while Sokka put the words he’d just heard together into a coherent sentence, directed at him, said by Zuko. Was that a weird thing to hear from your friend, spoken not with envy, but admiration? He couldn’t remember at the moment, but hey, he could take compliments, or leave them.

“I believe I just mentioned that: when you got soft with your swordplay. I’ll take your ass to grass a few more times, and we’ll see if you can get anything out of it.”

“Leave my ass alone,” Zuko hummed. He picked up the sake bottle, but it was empty. “Whoops. All out.”

“All out.” Sokka felt himself beginning to nod off. His eyelids were obscenely heavy, and his head kept dipping to his chest.

“Sokka, what would have happened if I never joined up with Azula and betrayed my uncle? If we just kept on living in Ba Sing Se, while you guys tried to stop my father?”

Sokka came out of his trance at the unexpected question. Zuko was still staring at him, with red-rimmed eyes and an alcohol flush up his pale throat.

“We would have lost, probably. If you didn’t join your sister, you wouldn’t have known how royally crappy your family really was, and then you wouldn’t have left to help Aang.”

“So it all worked out the way it was supposed to.”

“Of course.”

Sokka was still baffled at the conversation shift, but Zuko looked reassured. He set aside the sake bottle and got to his feet, more than a little unsteady, but his gaze was strong.

“I’m really glad you’re my friend, Sokka.”

“Me too,” Sokka yawned. “I guess we’d better get to bed.”

“Okay. But tomorrow, more swords?”

“More swords,” he promised, waving an airy farewell and sincerely hoping he would find his way back to his own room before crashing. 

  
  


Zuko cracked one eye open to the sunlight hitting him violently in the face. For a moment, all he could do was groan. 

“The _fuck?”_

He was still fully dressed from the evening before, his hair tangled and sticking to his face. And his head, ugh, it felt like someone had replaced it with a giant hive of angry hornets. He rolled to his hands and knees, swatting uselessly at the sun, wondering who dared open his curtains to the day.

Oh, right. That would be him. In a stroke of midnight, drunken clarity, Zuko remembered he’d pulled back all the curtains in his bedroom so the sun would wake him at dawn, and he’d have the morning to read his last proposal. He distinctly recalled the sense of pride he felt at the time. 

Clawing the curtains closed, he sighed in relief. It seemed he might as well go through with his duties, though. 

He lit a lamp and pulled out the paperwork. And squinted. His head throbbed; he could barely take in a single word, much less pull any meaning from the long, formal sentences. Something about “unbinding the legacy” of his great-grandfather and “a shining example as the new face and voice of our great nation.” Sounded noble. He signed off at the bottom and rolled it up with the rest of the documents before heading off in search of a strong cup of tea.

Zuko kept his poise throughout the day. He met with the agricultural counsel to discuss crops in the former colonies. He listened to updates from the facility that housed all the remaining war criminals, including his father. He inquired about the health of the head chef, who was away on maternity leave (twins, and their father was an Earthbender, so it was anyone’s guess whose side they’d take after). 

It was all satisfying, necessary work. He was proud of how well he managed things, and content to serve the people as best he could. 

But sometimes, by the end of the day, he felt just a little like exploding.

Sokka was waiting for him in the garden. He grinned at the sight of Zuko, like he actually wanted to see him, like doing this could make him as happy as it made Zuko. 

But he was ready too. When Zuko raised his swords to attack, Sokka ran to meet him this time. They clashed with a shriek of steel, circling and striking with gusto. Zuko – frankly still sore after yesterday’s bout – pushed himself harder than before, eager to prove he hadn’t lost all his skill. Sokka just laughed and hit back with equal enthusiasm. Around and around they went, until the crickets sang and night fell fully over the garden. 

“Not one for foreplay, are you?” Sokka slapped him across the shoulder, and left his hand there, steadying and warm. “You just kind of go for it.”

“Feels good to let off some steam. You should learn how to firebend so we can practice that too.” Zuko was pleasantly tired now. He was hungry, and probably smelly, and he could not stop wondering how to get Sokka to leave his hand where it was. The weight felt so sturdy, so comfortable. He distantly remembered saying something about Sokka’s arms the night before, but thankfully the details were hazy. 

Sokka was hands-on in a way most Fire Nation, and especially the royal family, were not. He often slung himself around Katara’s shoulder or grabbed Aang’s elbow to get his attention. Zuko had seen him walk arm in arm with Toph on many occasions, yet he himself had rarely been on the receiving end of this physical attention. And here, with the two of them alone, in the still-humid remains of the day, adrenaline cooling in their veins: it felt nice. 

Sokka hummed in approval and steered them out of the darkness.

“We get to eat now, right?”

“Definitely, but no sake.” Zuko managed a rueful expression. “My hangover this morning was lethal.”

Sokka laughed again and let his hand fall. 

“Ok, no sake. I felt fine this morning, I even went for a run through the mountains.”

“You did?!”

“Nope, I slept til mid afternoon.” Sokka took his seat on the other side of the table and immediately began pulling plates of food within reach. 

“Oh. Well, seeing as I’m the one who worked all day, I think I get first pass at the dumplings.” Zuko snatched the bowl away from Sokka, who pulled an incredulous face.

“I’m the _guest!”_

But he quickly settled for the charcoal-roasted fish Zuko knew he liked best. Stuffing his face, he commented, “You seem better today though. Hangover notwithstanding.”

“I feel better. Better than I have in a long time, really.”

“D’aaaaaaaw.” Sokka swallowed and posed with low-lidded eyes, head turned over his shoulder. “Is it me?”

“Yes, I think it might be,” Zuko answered seriously. “I guess I’ve been kind of lonely here.”

“Oh,” Sokka rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. “Then it looks like this visit is working out for the both of us. But maybe tomorrow we should actually discuss some Water Tribe – Fire Nation diplomacy matters, so I have something to talk about when I finally go back home.”

“Good thinking.”

They ate in companionable silence, Zuko as amazed as ever at the appetite Sokka could muster. He could rival Iroh in dumplings. 

Eventually, Sokka let his chopsticks fall and dropped himself down to the floor, reclining on his back. Zuko dimmed the lamps with a lazy flick of his hand. 

“So you really feel better without her,” came Sokka’s voice from the floor. “You don’t miss Mai?”

“Not really. Sometimes I do feel a little sad, but I can push it away. Do you miss Suki?”

“Yeah, I do at times. I’m making peace with the whole thing, but I remember all the fun we had. I think I’ll still want her in my life, in whatever way that works out.”

He paused for a minute.

“And I miss sex.”

“Um.” Zuko startled to attention. He looked down quickly but Sokka was still gazing aimlessly at the ceiling. “Right.”

“Don’t you?” 

“Don’t I… don’t… what?” Zuko was deeply grateful for the low lighting of the room; his cheeks felt hot and he couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands all of a sudden.

Sokka frowned and rose upright.

“Don’t you miss sex? I guess it’s only been a week or so for you but…”

Zuko was seized with an awful, dissociative view of the moment. Male friends talked about their sexual conquests with each other. It was a part of life, as sure as marriage and sharing a bed with your girlfriend of three years.

Sokka’s eyes were curious but empathetic. 

“Not… really, no. The truth is, sex with Mai was never much fun. She’d go along with it if I wanted to, but it always had to be planned in advance, both of us bathing before and going right to sleep after. She didn’t seem to enjoy herself much. That’s probably on me. Guess I’m just bad at it.”

“Hey, wait.” Sokka crawled over to the other side of the table and grabbed ahold of both Zuko’s shoulders. “Wait a minute here. Mai, well, she doesn’t like a lot of good stuff in life. She never once laughed at any of my jokes.”

“Are you comparing sex to your jokes?”

“Yes, and shut up. My point is, maybe that’s not the greatest representation of your… abilities.”

Zuko considered this the best he could with Sokka’s determined face hovering a few inches from his own. 

“But… how am I supposed to know? If I’m any good or not?”

“So there hasn’t been anyone else?” Sokka pressed at his shoulders, threatening to topple them both to the floor, empathy giving way to playfulness.

“Has there been anyone else for _you?”_ Zuko demanded, and Sokka blinked, but didn’t pull away.

“No.”

“Oh. Well.” Sokka shifted his weight a little and Zuko fell flat on his back, a cushion bunched awkwardly between him and the table, Sokka’s hands still holding his shoulders like they belonged there. Technically, Sokka was sitting on him now, thighs tucked on either side of his body. _What was happening?_ Sokka wouldn’t go this far for a joke, would he? 

“You just talk about this like you know a lot.”

Sokka grinned smugly and folded his arms across Zuko’s chest. _Of course_ he would go this far for a joke. This was Sokka. He’d flirt with the old Firelord if the mood struck him or Toph dared him.

“Practice makes perfect.” He winked and Zuko… was beginning to lose his cool a little. 

Talking about sex, Sokka lounging on _top_ of him, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched, just casually, by a friend, someone not afraid of him, someone who wanted nothing from him except to hang out, someone with broad biceps and clear blue eyes… 

Zuko shoved Sokka off, heart thundering. He felt dizzy and breathless and suddenly, painfully aroused. Which was beyond the far reaches of the universe of embarrassing. 

Sokka fell back, looking confused and hurt. Because _nothing_ was happening, Zuko berated himself; they had just been joking around until he made it weird and he was honestly too mortified now to try to salvage the weird pieces back into something else.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I, we, um. I’ll see you tomorrow, we can meet up in the afternoon to talk about stuff. Water Tribe stuff, for you to, you know, bring back to the Water Tribe.”

“Right.” Sokka got to his feet, avoiding Zuko’s eye now. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

He left, leaving Zuko a flustered, anxious, somehow-still-horny disaster. 

“That was a level of pathetic I did not think existed in this world,” Zuko muttered to himself. Did he actually just need to get laid? Was Sokka onto something? 

At any rate, he was out of his depth here. It was time for a visit to the tea shop.

But not tomorrow, he told himself, making a note to clear an opening in his schedule. Tomorrow his job was to not get weird again around Sokka. 

  
  


For the first time at the palace, Sokka slept badly. He thrashed off his blankets, yanked them back on, and finally, settled into a miserable daze a few hours after dawn. 

So he’d fucked up. He’d made it weird with Zuko, and now he had to sit across from the guy and discuss trade negotiations all afternoon. 

“Are you just physically incapable of restraining yourself?” He grumbled aloud from the tangle of sheets. There he was last night, taunting poor Zuko about his terrible sex life, and bragging about his own while climbing all over the man like a llama-lynx in heat. Couldn’t you get a few years behind bars for molesting the Firelord?

Sokka groaned as loud as he could, facedown in his pillow. 

He could not blame Zuko in the slightest for bailing, after he’d been so stupid-horny with him. All he could hope for now was that Zuko would agree to never speak of it again.

Breakfast was long forgotten by now, but he washed up and dressed and caught the kitchen staff all standing around in deep conversation. Dirty dishes piled up on the countertops, sauce pots came dangerously close to bubbling over, and yet everyone fell collectively silent as Sokka strolled through. 

“Good morning?” he tried, growing accustomed by now to someone pressing food in his hands at this point. 

One of the servants bowed and began scrambling for a tray. The others just stared at him, some nervous, some almost hostile. The short woman with the tray smiled at him though, bowing again to present the two bowls of stew and rice she’d dished up.

“Um,” Sokka raised an eyebrow at the duplicate. “I know I can eat a lot, but…”

“Please.” The woman clasped her hands underneath her chin. “You were on your way to meet His Majesty the Firelord, weren’t you?”

“Sure…”

“Then perhaps you could take this to him. He has not yet eaten today, and has holed up in his study without speaking to anyone. Very unfortunate, as many people have come to meet with him and –”

“I’ll bring him the food, yeah.” In Sokka’s opinion, Zuko was more than entitled to a quiet morning to himself. Besides, he was starving and the smell of the stew on the walk to the study was almost more than he could stand. 

Balancing the tray on one arm, he knocked at the door.

A moment later, Zuko peered out suspiciously but seeing Sokka, beckoned him in and locked the door behind him.

“Hi. I thought you might be another messenger, it’s been unusually busy around here today.” 

Sokka set the tray on the desk and helped himself to his own bowl.

“Why?”

“No idea. Maybe people have questions about the new agricultural bill I passed?”

“Very tricky, those important turnip decisions.” Sokka waved his spoon wisely. Zuko sat back down at the desk and ate a few bites of stew.

“It was radishes, actually. The village of Canto needs at least sixty more acres allotted to their crops; they’re the top supplier in the area.”

Sokka frowned and put down his spoon.

“Except Canto doesn’t have the water rights to sixty acres total, let alone sixty more for radishes. That’ll infringe on the Heme tribe’s territory, and you don’t want another dust-up with them.”

Zuko considered this for a moment, evidently surprised Sokka actually found time to do his job in between finding trouble and harassing royalty.

“What about the mountain land? No one lives there.”

“No good, the soil’s too rocky for crops and besides, the people of Canto… ”

So, unexpectedly, they filled the entire afternoon. Zuko gave as much attention to all his suggestions as Sokka had seen him give to anyone in his counsel, taking notes here and there, and interrupting only to ask more questions. When they disagreed – which was often – Sokka found himself inspired rather than annoyed, eager to explain his views to a receptive audience. After solving the radish dilemma (the Heme would probably be agreeable to a percentage of profit in exchange for use of forty acres), they moved on to the problems of establishing a school in the Southern Water Tribe, and the efforts to ferret out the remaining Dai Li agents.

Sokka would have been happy tackling income inequality in Ba Sing Se (once his brain went to work, he could be amazingly single-minded), but as sunset approached, Zuko claimed enough. 

“I think we’ve solved at least a few of the world’s problems today.” Zuko rose stiffly, massaging his back after so many hours sitting, and alright, Sokka could see how doing this all day, every day could lead to a person going soft. He hopped off his perch on the desk with similar protest from his own body.

“Agreed.” He bent down to touch his toes and stretched overhead with an audible crack in his neck. “Work’s done, time to play!”

Zuko smiled. He reached back to adjust his topknot higher, sliding the silky black through its wrap, and a jolt hit Sokka’s stomach. Long hair was a much better look for Zuko; he seemed so much more confident and sure of himself with the weight of it against his face, and out of nowhere, Sokka suddenly wondered if Zuko would let him touch it. Play with it. Pull it.

_Pull it?!_

Sokka coughed and tripped over his own feet, earning a raised eyebrow from Zuko. Clearly he’d been sitting in this room too long. There was no reasonable explanation for why else he would be seized with a desire to run his hands through Zuko’s hair and – well, anyway.

After a hustle to grab their weapons, they reconvened in the garden. Sokka realized he really could get used to this: the peaceful cool to close the day, the muscle burn in his sword arm, and the way Zuko looked when he finally managed to knock Sokka to the ground.

“Hey!” Sokka feigned outrage, but a sense of pride twisted his mouth, as acute as if it had been his own victory. Zuko lowered his swords, chest heaving, flushed, and eyes bright. He seemed too pleased to say anything, and the urge to _demonstrate_ his affection once again gripped Sokka and refused to let up.

He tackled Zuko to the grass like a polar bear-dog. They were all limbs and sweat and foreheads knocking together as they fell, Zuko’s hair whipping against Sokka’s cheek. He landed with a grunt, surprised and open-mouthed and so satisfyingly _undone_ . Sokka couldn’t look away. He couldn’t move either, the urge to show how he felt warping and elevating to something else. He held Zuko’s shoulders, like the day before, when he’d pledged _not_ to end up in a situation like this again, one thumb stroking the soft skin at Zuko’s throat. 

But Zuko didn’t move either. He stared up at Sokka with an expression that said maybe this wasn’t something they should have avoided, wasn’t strange, or unwelcome, or weird at all. 

Sokka’s breath caught in his chest. He forced himself to speak, before he lost his nerve. 

“So, ah. I’m sorry, but I really want to kiss you right now.”

Zuko’s brow curled and he frowned, not in anger or disgust, but frustration.

“Well that’s no good. Because I really want to kiss you too.”

Sokka could breathe again. In fact, air was coming almost too easily, he was panting a little, and shivering with the effort of not moving, not curling his hands under Zuko’s back and hauling him closer. He settled for lowering himself down til they were nearly chest to chest, Zuko’s breath moving faster too.

“But we probably shouldn’t, right?”

“Probably not.”

“Then what should we do?” Maybe Sokka _was_ physically incapable of restraining himself; he moved the thumb at Zuko’s neck to the edge of his mouth, pulling his lip to fullness before releasing. He kept his hand there, at Zuko’s chin, so that he could feel the vibrations when he spoke.

“Maybe…” Zuko’s voice was rough, and he had to pause and try again. “Maybe we could do it just once, and then we’d be able to put it behind us.”

 _“Yes._ Get it out of our systems. Genius! Just one kiss then.”

And because he probably couldn’t have waited another second for anything, Sokka dropped down entirely and pressed himself to Zuko’s mouth. 

He wanted to be soft, giving Zuko the chance to pull away, not turning immediately into a desperate beast. But if this _was_ their only kiss, he realized, shouldn’t it be a good one? Didn’t Zuko deserve at least his best?

Besides, Zuko’s hands were at the back of his head now, turning him for a better angle. They moved against each other like this was what they should have been doing all along. Like it was natural, like it was easy. And Sokka kept moving and kept waiting, afraid that some voice would break through and say this was wrong, that they had to stop. Afraid Zuko would say as much. But no. When Zuko finally pulled away, it was with an even more frustrated look than before.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to do that just once.”

“Yeah, in hindsight that was probably a stupid idea.”

“You’re saying my idea was stupid?”

“So fucking stupid…” Sokka descended again, this time with no pretence of restraint. He held Zuko’s face, pinning him to the ground, sweeping away loose, sweaty strands of hair with his free hand. He brushed over Zuko’s collarbone, and when he gasped, opened Zuko’s mouth with his tongue. 

He didn’t worry about giving Zuko the chance to pull away anymore. Zuko kissed aggressively, like he wanted to take something out of Sokka, hands clenching the fabric of his shirt and scratching the short hair at the back of his neck. He was so warm, all firm lines and hot skin in the soft grass, and Sokka _wanted,_ so intensely he felt he might die of it. 

He was directly on top of Zuko now, legs tangled up gracelessly, and an involuntary spasm of his hips thrust him up against Zuko’s thigh and– 

“Stop.”

With difficulty, Zuko scrambled out from under him and scooted away through the grass. Night had fallen, so Sokka couldn’t see his face, but it was pretty obvious from his body language that he was no longer interested in continuing. 

“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” Holding himself back _was_ possible; Sokka knelt a respectable distance away with his hands on his thighs, suddenly unsure what to do with them after grabbing at all the pale, heated skin he could find.

Zuko pulled his knees to his chest and shook his head.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you were perfect, amazing, I just… it was just a lot for me all at once. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” Sokka flung himself across the grass, close enough to see the grim set to Zuko’s mouth. His lips were still saliva slick and pink, and ok, serious moment now, but Sokka could not and would not suppress the flutter of delight he felt at seeing that. “You don’t have to apologize to me, ok? It’s fine. It’s totally fine, this is new for me too. We don’t have to do anything. It’s fine.”

Zuko nodded and slowly uncurled himself. He didn’t say anything else though, so Sokka contented himself to rolling to his back to stare at the sky, and after a moment, Zuko joined him, the two of them side by side.

The moon was nearly full tonight. There weren’t as many stars here as back home. At the South Pole, at the height of winter, you could sometimes see whole galaxies, and flashes of colored light in shimmering waves. Sokka did miss that. But some of the constellations were still visible, even here in the city. It was good to have that anchor all over the world. Maybe his dad and Katara were looking at the night sky too.

All at once, gazing at the velvety expanse of dark blue, a revelation hit, and the shock of it forced Sokka to gasp out loud.

Zuko looked over immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! I just realized: I never told you. Suki didn’t just dump me. She dumped me for a girl she met on Kyoshi.”

“Oh.” Zuko’s expression turned so pained Sokka half expected him to implode on the spot. “That’s really…”

“No, it’s okay! When she was completely and utterly wrecking my heart, she told me that she wanted what was best for both of us. But she said it all weird. Like she was trying to tell me something else, something about me that I needed to know.”

Sokka shot up, terrified and excited all at once.

“Zuko! _This is what she meant_ . She wanted me to have this, with you! Well, maybe not you in particular, but this general type of _thing,_ this experience!”

Zuko sat up and considered this for a minute.

“Suki broke up with you so you could both go do gay stuff?”

“Exactly!”

Zuko was quiet a few moments longer.

“So what we did just now: does that make us gay?”

Laughter, joyful and insane both, burst out of Sokka. He wanted so badly to kiss Zuko again.

“I have no idea! Probably! Who knows!”

  
  


Despite the several days’ warning he’d given to his attendants that he was leaving the palace, Zuko had to fight to shake off the handful of people still demanding he speak to them, several clearly having camped out at the gates overnight. It was baffling; what on earth could be so urgent? Was the radish bill really _that_ controversial?

At any rate, he had other matters on his mind. He and Sokka had kissed last night. And Sokka had expressed interest in doing _more,_ but Zuko had again rejected him. 

The walk to the tea shop was not nearly long enough to think things over, so Zuko entered through the back alley, tied on his apron, and fell to washing dishes in a kind of daze, without even looking for Iroh.

The thing was, he didn’t _want_ to say no. It felt so good, so right, so freeing to kiss Sokka, to let himself be pushed to the ground and ravished like he was something desirable. 

But how could they? These types of relations weren't even allowed in the Fire Nation, legally. And was that what this was? A relationship, not just the two of them getting worked up in the summer heat after ending things with their girlfriends? 

Zuko thought about the way Sokka made him feel. It had never been just them before, alone, without the others, without a war. Sokka made it seem so easy to just go about life, eating and laughing and sparring and working. It was a sense of ease Zuko had never known existed. And he looked forward to all the time they spent together. He wanted more. If he was being honest, he didn’t want Sokka to leave at all. Maybe they could just do this forever, the two of them living in the palace, solving the world’s problems and eating dumplings and fighting at sunset. 

Maybe Sokka could want that too.

“Zuko!”

The shout brought him abruptly from his daydreaming. Iroh burst into the back room and closed the door behind him with a slam. He was as breathless as if he’d been running, apron wrinkled and hat askew. 

“Uncle? Is something wrong?”

“Zuko, where have you been?” Iroh roared. It wasn’t like him to get so agitated, now that his advisory duties had dropped off to just these visits and the occasional counsel meeting, so Zuko stopped and dried his hands on a towel, bewildered. “You cannot make such a monumental decision, and then disappear entirely!”

“This is not about the radishes, is it,” Zuko said slowly. A sense of dread crept over him as he remembered his constant stream of unexpected visitors.

“Of course not! Why did you decide to remove the legislation banning same sex relationships without any input from your advisory counsel?”

_Oh._

“But I didn’t!” Zuko wracked his brain, trying to remember when he might have made probably his most important official decree yet. “I didn’t disappear– I didn’t _know_. I would have never passed such a massive policy without talking it over with you and my advisors first.”

Iroh eyed him warily, trying to piece together the situation.

“It was your signature on the document. I saw it myself. Dated two days ago.”

Two days. He _had_ signed off on a number of papers two days ago, but they were all agricultural bills, and property taxes, and– 

“Oh no.”

Zuko banged his head against the cabinet above the sink. The sense of dread in his stomach volcanoed into absolute terror. 

“Uncle, I did sign off a proposal without reading it properly. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

Now that the truth had been exposed, Iroh seemed to relax. He smoothed his apron and adjusted his hat. Tugging his beard, he studied Zuko for a long moment.

“We will manage this, nephew. You should know, the response has been quite extraordinary. Many are now regarding you as a hero. There have already been parades and celebrations throughout the city.”

Zuko felt too overwhelmed to process this information.

“People aren’t… upset?”

Iroh laughed delightedly, the last traces of worry fading from his forehead.

“You have been Firelord for this long now, and still believe no one could be upset? The board of governors called for your removal! But you have lived through far worse, nephew. Stand confident in what you have done, and time will see you as the great leader that you are. Even unintentionally.”

Zuko sank back against the sink. His head was buzzing, and Iroh laid a hand across his shoulder, holding him steady. 

“Also…”

Iroh hesitated, looking at him carefully. The way he had during their time at sea when the ship’s crew left it to the general to deliver news that the Avatar had escaped yet again. 

“There is speculation that you might have _personal_ reasons for making the change.”

“What does that mean?” Zuko asked faintly, knowing the answer, but needing to hear it anyway.

Iroh held his gaze.

“Only that some believe you yourself might be interested in pursuing such a relationship. That the law was removed so unexpectedly, with no great fanfare or warning, coupled with your very recent breakup with your long term girlfriend, did little to help matters.”

Zuko was silent for a long few moments. Sooner or later, wasn’t the universe bound to get tired of mocking him?

“Then I guess it’s time I told you why I came to visit.” His stomach ached terribly. Iroh hadn’t given up on him yet, but they’d never discussed this topic before: surely there _had_ to be a limit to his uncle’s kindness somewhere. He took a deep breath, choosing a stain on the tile to focus on as he spoke.

“Sokka’s been staying at the palace. We’ve spent a lot of time together, and last night we kissed. Kind of a lot. So it looks like people are right to think that about me. Because I do want that, with him.”

When Iroh didn’t respond right away, Zuko looked up from his stain, heart racing with fear. 

His uncle’s cheeks were wet with tears, but his smile was warm, and he pulled Zuko in for a smothering embrace, almost knocking the wind out of him. 

“Zuko,” Iroh whispered, throat thick. “I am so proud.”

“Of what!?” Zuko’s head spun again, and he wondered how many emotions it was possible to cycle through in a single morning; he felt almost motion sick.

“I am proud you have found the courage to continue forging your own path in this world. That is all I have ever hoped for you, in all things.” Iroh wiped his eyes. 

“So… so, that’s okay with you? If I don’t have a girlfriend now? If I have…”

“Of course, nephew.” Iroh beamed. “Such a blessing in life, to have a good friendship blossom into something more. I’m sure you will make each other very happy.”

Zuko’s stomach was still a mess of emotional-turmoil, but the relief he felt now was sweet and light; Iroh thought they could have a future together too. It wasn’t too weird, or forbidden.

Spirits above, it was even _legal._

“Uncle, I’ve got a lot of work to do sorting all this out, don’t I.”

“Yes, I’m afraid it’s a ‘real shitshow,’ as your beloved would say. Let’s pack up some ginseng and get going.”

It was indeed an all day process meeting with everyone who demanded an audience with Zuko, with more than one tirade about the preservation of “traditional values” (whatever those were), a few tears of gratitude, and a written declaration to not simply decriminalize same sex relations, but legalize marriage and enact legal protections as well. If he was going to do this thing, Zuko reflected, he may as well do it properly. Iroh was right. He’d dealt with far worse than people getting angry at him for the existence of love.

And so, it was nearing sunset as he finally dismissed the advisory board and bid Iroh a grateful but exhausted farewell. He was stiff, hungry, fighting off a persistent headache between his eyes, and yet, he couldn’t keep himself from heading out to the garden.

Sokka was there, playing with his boomerang. He whirled it overhead into the dark grey sky and expertly caught it each time with a resounding smack against his palm. He hadn’t brought his sword.

Zuko watched from the shadows as long as he dared. The humid air was heavy with anticipation and the scent of all green things swelling with moisture. A streak of lighting broke a jagged line against the sky; a few seconds later, there was the answering rumble of thunder, still far away.

Sokka stopped then, and looked over, directly at Zuko. He smiled easily.

“No sparring today?”

“It’s going to rain,” Zuko said instead of answering. 

“Let it.” 

As if listening for his command, the sky broke open again, and Sokka threw his arms wide open to the misty spray. It was a summer storm, the droplets fat and the water warm. As a child, Zuko used to sit and watch this very garden in such storms, eating cookies with his mother snug in the safety of her arms. 

“Listen Zuko,” she’d say. “You can almost hear how grateful the earth is, for a moment of coolness after so much heat. So much fire.”

Zuko munched his cookies and listened. He only ever heard the rain, but then he’d known, even then, that his mother could sense things he could not. 

“Hey!” A friendly cuff across the arm took Zuko out of his memory. “You good?”

Zuko blinked. Sokka hovered before him, looking healthy and invigorated, skin gleaming in the rain and low light. His eyes seemed to glow with their own inner light. He was utterly mesmerizing.

“I am good. Yeah.” Zuko swallowed heavily. “Did you hear the news, then?”

“The news of why your head baker keeps glaring at me?” Sokka rolled his eyes. “Yes. She thinks I corrupted the Firelord, just swept in here to convince you to break up with Mai and carry you off into the sunset with evil, homosexual prowess, destroying the traditional values of the Fire Nation along the way.”

“She thinks I changed the law because of you?” A whole day of dealing with this, and Zuko had never considered that Sokka might have to face repercussions as well.

Sokka looked away, as another crack of thunder sounded overhead. The air was growing cooler, almost cold.

“Some people have said that, yeah.” His voice was small in the wind. Zuko was aware they were getting drenched, his heavy robes sticking uncomfortably to his skin, but he had to know where they stood. 

“It was an accident, actually.” Sokka gazed back up, an eyebrow quirked. “Remember my last paper to sign? The one I read hungover? Probably should have done that one the night before.”

Sokka’s eyes widened. Then he laughed, doubling over with his stomach held in, giggling until Zuko had no choice but to laugh too, finally conceding to the ridiculousness of the whole situation. 

“So technically… you _did_ change it because of me,” Sokka noted as they sobered. “You wouldn’t have drunk so much if you weren’t so determined to show me _proper hospitality.”_

“You’re right. I guess it is your fault. But I’m glad you told me about the baker. I understand why people would make assumptions about me now, but I didn’t think they would for you too.”

“Well,” Sokka startly slyly. “You have to see it from their perspective. You give Mai the boot, and come next day, the dashing Water Tribe ambassador shows up to stay in the palace. Then you start spending all your evenings with him, growing _visibly_ happier and less stressed, and just casually throw out your country’s big anti-gay law. What would you think?”

“I don’t care what they think,” Zuko said, surprising himself in his honesty. He shivered, now well and truly soaked to the bone. “I just care what _you_ think.”

“I think I’m going to get in even more trouble if I’m the reason the Firelord catches cold,” Sokka hummed, wrapping himself around Zuko. His bare skin was still warm, and Zuko clung to it, rather than his wet clothes. This was absolutely idiotic, standing out in the rain, but he didn’t move. 

“What else?” he whispered, close enough now to Sokka’s ear to speak softly. His chin fit perfectly over Sokka’s shoulder. The gentle rise and fall of their breathing synched as their chests pressed firmly together. 

Sokka waited a minute before answering. Zuko could feel his heartbeat thudding.

“I think it’s going to be very hard to leave here. Not just for the dumplings.”

“So stay.” The storm made the air dark as midnight. The rain grew cold, but Zuko would have stood in that garden forever, if only it meant he could hold himself against Sokka, hoping against hope that he felt the same way. “Stay here. Spar with me. Eat with me. Help me make the world better. You’re so smart, and strong, and amazing, so I understand, if you don’t want that, with me. But I couldn’t not tell you, that’s what I want.”

Sokka shifted around so he could look Zuko full in the face.

“So you’re asking me if I want to live in an actual palace, my every wish fulfilled, making important decisions about the state of the world, with you?”

“Yes. I mean, if you wanted that.” Zuko couldn’t breathe under Sokka’s intense gaze. 

“You are _unbelievable.”_ Sokka leaned in and stole what breath he still had away with a fierce kiss. And another. And another. Zuko swayed, a little light-headed, and Sokka held him like he never planned to let go again. 

“So, will you then?” he gasped.

“Of course, you absolute genius.” Sokka leaned in again, sucking Zuko’s bottom lip, nipping it, and running his tongue over the delicate pain until Zuko shuddered. It wasn’t so cold now, but Zuko’s sodden robes were heavy and annoying, especially where Sokka crumpled up the wet fabric at his lower back. 

Even still, it took him a minute to find his voice again.

“Should we… can we… go inside?”

Sokka pulled away. There was something new burning in his eyes, something hungry, like he wanted to fight Zuko, or eat him alive. He asked in a low voice, “Like go in and dry off and eat?”

Zuko shook his head.

“Like go in and do more gay stuff.”

_“Oh.”_ Sokka smiled, and it too was a very hungry smile. “Yeah, I think we can do that.”

Zuko took him by the hand back through the palace, both of them dripping on the tile. Along the way, they passed the kitchens and – as luck would have it – the head baker, her hands full with a tray of fresh custard buns. Her eyes widened at the sight of them, but she sank into a bow as best she could. Her name was Sochi, Zuko remembered. She didn’t get along well with the others; too nosy.

“Good evening,” Zuko said pleasantly, pulling Sokka closer to him. “I don’t know if you’ve been introduced, but this is Sokka. He’s going to be staying with us, and I want to be sure to show him the highest hospitality. You will make him feel welcome, won’t you?”

“Of, of course, Your Highness,” the woman stuttered, glancing quickly at Sokka.

“I’m glad to hear it. You can start by bringing us some of those buns and a few other snacks in a few hours; we’ll have worked up a big appetite.” He squeezed Sokka’s hand. “Just leave them outside my door.”

Sochi’s face turned white. Her hands trembled on the tray, and it was with the utmost difficulty that she bowed again, the back of her neck bright red.

Zuko took them off again down the hall. Sokka looked back quickly before slinging an arm low around Zuko’s waist and kissing under his ear.

“Is she still watching?” Zuko murmured.

“Didn’t notice,” Sokka answered airily. “You are so fucking hot when you go all Firelord on people.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Zuko was starting to feel light-headed again as they passed his personal guards, stationed outside his rooms (Iroh insisted, for the time being), and finally, _finally_ fell against the door the instant Sokka kicked it shut. “Never,” he said in between Sokka’s lips pressing to his own. “You’re mine.”

Without missing a beat, Sokka swept him up – heavy, wet robes and all – and pinned him against the wall. Zuko locked his ankles around Sokka’s back and ran his hands reverently over the arms holding him up in the air before yanking Sokka’s head forward to kiss him again.

“Then you’re mine,” Sokka finally hissed against his neck, eyes screwed shut as Zuko bit his exposed collarbone. “So perfect for me, so sexy, so beautiful, _fuck_ …”

They groped and teased at the edges of each other’s bodies for a while longer, until Zuko’s need to get out of his freezing clothes became urgent.

“Take me to bed,” he whispered. It wasn’t a short journey, but Sokka didn’t falter, carrying him across the room and still licking the rainwater from his throat at the same time. He set Zuko gently at the edge of his expansive bed and set about removing every soggy article of clothing. Zuko helped. They unwrapped his outer robe and tossed it aside, unbuckled his boots, peeled his icy shirt and drenched pants from his damp skin. 

“Is it necessary to wear all this every single day?” Sokka asked conversationally, tossing a sock over his shoulder. He unbuckled his boomerang and added it to the pile.

Zuko was down to just his underwear, but became struck with an unquestionable need to touch Sokka again. He curled up the edges of Sokka’s thin shirt –so wet it was essentially transparent, showing every line of muscle underneath. He tugged it free and pulled Sokka down on top of him, hoping to warm him with his own instantly higher body temperature.

Sokka sighed, burying one hand at the base of Zuko’s neck. His other hand dragged slowly down Zuko’s chest, fingertips brushing purposefully against his belly and hip before coming to rest on top of his cock.

Zuko gasped, and Sokka rubbed his neck reassuringly.

“Is this okay?”

Zuko quickly nodded, wondering how to convey ‘You laying on top of me, holding me through my underwear, is more exciting than anything that has ever happened to me in this bed’ without speaking. He hesitated, then reached for Sokka’s pants. Together, they undid them well enough for Sokka to wiggle free without moving from his spot. He settled back down and Zuko gave an embarrassingly loud moan as he realized Sokka was naked. 

Sokka smiled a little self-consciously. Then he shifted, and Zuko felt him, the weight and heat of him, down below, and _shit,_ he felt big. Zuko wanted to just look at him, take in all the miles and miles of smooth, brown skin and touch and kiss every single inch. 

Sokka tightened his hand and Zuko moaned again, eager to be bare too. Sokka removed his hand entirely and shuffled backwards, coming to kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed. Without warning, he grabbed both Zuko’s ankles and hauled him down until his feet came to rest on the floor, on either side of Sokka. 

Zuko was up on his elbows in an instant, feeling intrigued and shy and very aware of the obscene angle of himself in his underwear.

Sokka held his thighs open with both hands, looking up at him with more hunger.

“Can I put my mouth on you?”

A shiver that had nothing to do with the wet hair sticking to his neck ran up Zuko’s spine. He trusted himself to speak even less now, and instead lifted his rear to push off his underwear and toe it away, holding Sokka’s gaze all the while. 

Sokka’s eyes flickered down then, and immediately one of his strong hands came to wrap around the base of Zuko’s cock, the other gripping his thigh posessively. 

Zuko did not dare breathe. Sokka guided the tip to his lips and closed his eyes as he opened his mouth and let the first inch rest over his tongue. Zuko tried not to move, but a desperate sounding high noise – a _whine_ – crawled up his throat, and Sokka slowly sank down further, holding what he couldn’t fit in his mouth in his fist. He took a few steady, experimental drags back and forth and Zuko fell back against the mattress, clenching the blanket, panting and shaking. 

Then Sokka began to suck, rolling his tongue across the head, hollowing his cheeks to increase the wonderful, wet heat driving Zuko clean out of his mind. How had he never had this? This was something people could just _do!?_ His tightly closed eyes leaked tears, stomach clutching in warning spasms so that he was actually relieved when Sokka pulled away.

“I thought you said you’ve never done this before!” Zuko gasped for air, almost agitated as Sokka came up to rest beside him.

“I haven’t,” Sokka said a little hoarsely. “Sorry I had to stop, my jaw hurts. That was _not_ like eating pussy.”

Zuko had never eaten pussy in his life, and now it seemed like he never would, so he played with Sokka’s necklace, calming down enough now to just enjoy the body next to him.

Sokka winked.

“Just need more practice, and I’ll get it right.”

“Any more right and I think I might die,” Zuko rolled his eyes. “Why are you good at _everything?”_

“I don’t know, why are you so unbelievably hot? _That’s_ what should be illegal; you should make a law against your supreme hotness.” Sokka held his face in both hands and kissed him soundly. Zuko could taste himself, the wet, bitter tang of his own arousal on Sokka’s mouth, and his cock ached. He nudged his hips forward unsubtly. Sokka pulled away with a smile.

“What do you want?” he whispered across Zuko’s lips. His thumb was at Zuko’s chin, forcing him to look right into Sokka’s hazy eyes while he held his hip still, silently demanding an answer.

“You,” Zuko groaned in frustration. “Please, just touch me.”

Sokka’s lust-blown gaze grew thoughtful for a moment, then he hummed excitedly.

“I have an idea. C’mere.”

He pushed himself upright, thighs parted slightly as he sat back on his heels. Zuko made to follow, but quickly found himself distracted.

“Um.” 

“What’s wrong?” Sokka asked, a little impatiently, cock bobbing as he spoke.

“Your dick is really big,” Zuko said inelegantly. “It’s just… you’re so… wow.”

A slow, lazy smirk slid over Sokka’s face; he positively preened, and Zuko made a mental note to never ever compliment him again, no matter how awkwardly. 

“Thanks,” Sokka flashed a sparkling grin and shot finger guns at Zuko – who was moments away from saying he didn’t want to have sex after all – before tugging him over by the wrist.

Zuko was back in full-body contact with Sokka’s hot skin, so he let himself be manipulated over Sokka’s lap, kneeling across his thick thighs, back to front so that if he were to fall forward, it would be to all fours. He leaned back instead, letting Sokka’s chest rub tantalizingly over his spine as Sokka enfolded him completely, circling his waist, one hand holding loosely at his throat as he nosed Zuko’s neck.

“Wait.” Zuko slid out his crown and tossed it to the side. One-handed, so that he could curl his fingers against the hand at his stomach, he untied his topknot.

Sokka groaned, releasing Zuko’s throat to take a fistful of his hair, not quite pulling just tangling up the strands in his hand. It was exquisite – relaxing and arousing and intimate all at once.

Zuko tilted his head to one side, accepting Sokka’s lips and teeth working hotly there.

“You like my hair,” he hummed, somewhat unnecessarily, but enjoying the twitch of Sokka’s hips up against his ass. 

“You’re fucking right I do.” Sokka bit down on his shoulder blade, and Zuko arched up with a desperate little noise. “Fuck, you are the most beautiful… I’m gonna make you come so hard.”

His hand left Zuko’s stomach to stroke the length of his cock agonizingly slow.

“Gimme some lube, beautiful.”

Sokka’s two first fingers came up to press at Zuko’s mouth, and it was a few seconds before he understood what he was supposed to do. He suckled them in, twirling his tongue and trying to gather all the saliva he could, so much that when Sokka pulled his fingers free with a pop, a thin, clear thread still connected them to Zuko’s lips.

The friction over his cock was slippery and tight now, and Sokka drove it at a confident, unhurried pace.

“Yes,” Zuko sighed, reaching back to grab the back of Sokka’s head. He ground down on Sokka’s lap, letting his cock slide wetly up the cleft of his ass. 

Sokka groaned even louder than before, a low, guttural noise pulled from his belly. He began to move with purpose, thrusting up against Zuko in time with his stroking, breath hot and wet in his ear. Zuko rolled up and back, meeting the heat of Sokka’s hand and the firm curve of his cock, bringing their thighs together with a jolt. He could feel Sokka’s abs contracting, the muscle of them driving his hips hard. He dug his nails into Sokka’s leg just to anchor himself to the world.

Sokka released his hold on Zuko’s hair to grab his wrist. He pulled his arm back, not enough to hurt, but with obvious intent, using the leverage to push up harder again Zuko, fucking his hips in smooth, powerful waves. Zuko tightened his grip on Sokka’s scalp and moaned unrestrained, reaching a crest he had no chance of returning from.

“There you go,” Sokka breathed, letting his fingers trail loosely over the head of Zuko’s cock before pumping him more forcefully, still holding his arm twisted back and thrusting up against the tight line of his ass – all totally at odds with the softness of his voice. “It’s okay, Zuko, you can have this, let go for me.”

He squeezed his hand and Zuko lost control, tumbling over the edge with a sound he couldn’t hear, black swimming before his eyes, hips spasming wildly, and wetness spilling over Sokka’s fist.

His stomach ached with the sudden loss of tension, and he braced himself against Sokka with both hands at his thighs, but he had no time to recover. He could only whimper as Sokka continued rocking against his over-hot body, little desperate sounds that evolved into breathless gasps when Sokka’s extraordinary cock throbbed at the soft space between his legs, and those muscular arms he liked so much wrapped around his chest and hips, clutching him to Sokka’s sweaty chest. Sokka thrust once more before stilling with a long moan, pressing himself deeply to the dip of Zuko’s spine, where his release trickled down. They stayed in the embrace for a long few moments, catching their breath, and gracelessly entwining their fingers at Sokka’s hold on Zuko’s chest.

Zuko collapsed to his side, indifferent to the half-damp bedding spilling onto the floor, the muscle ache of his inner thighs, even the sticky come cooling over his ass, rubbed hot by Sokka’s rutting. His heart rate started to taper down, his mind felt wonderfully blank.

Sokka scrambled at the foot of the bed for a minute, eventually returning with his wet shirt, which he used to clean them up. Zuko made an agreeable sound at the feel of the cool cloth; was sex supposed to be so luxurious?

With a huff, Sokka joined him on the bed, looking flushed and heavy-lidded, but with a dazzling grin.

“You are _not_ bad at sex.”

“Yeah, you either,” Zuko responded absently. “But maybe we should try it again.”

“Just to be sure,” Sokka yawned.

“That’s not too stupid of an idea for you? More gay stuff?”

“Not even close.”

Sokka snored. He’d fallen asleep almost instantly after the snacks following their post-coital make-out session and granted Zuko a few precious hours of uninterrupted sleep, curled up in the center of the bed with his arm thrown loosely out toward Zuko. It was a gentle noise, actually, not much louder than the cadence of his former breathing, but it was a new sound in the night for Zuko, a reminder of what he’d chosen for himself. 

This was going to work, he realized, smiling to himself in the darkness. Sokka had untied his wolf-tail to sleep, hair tumbling over his face, and if the sight of the same on himself inspired even a fraction of the same reaction, Zuko had no idea how Sokka kept from touching _his_ hair all day long. 

They were going to do this together. It was unprecedented – Zuko was fairly sure no member of the royal family had _ever_ dated outside the Fire Nation, and there was no use even thinking of their response to a brilliant, wise-cracking, slightly scruffy Water Tribe peasant _man._ They were going to do it anyway, as they’d saved the world and upended the status quo and helped welcome an era of peace when all either of them had ever known was separation and war.

That was alright. New things were happening all the time. 

Zuko knew he was only a few hours away from another long day, but suddenly he was too excited to sleep. _Sokka was here,_ in his bed, and that was allowed and good and there was a future for them to uncover, together. 

He laid back down and reached for the hand Sokka offered unconsciously, fitting their fingers together like a contract, silently vowing to do his best by this incredible person.

Sokka slowly blinked awake, frowning slightly. He curled a little closer, voice concerned but still full of sleep.

“Everything good?”

“Yeah,” Zuko answered, closing the distance between them. “Yeah, it is.”

  
  


**EPILOGUE**

**Not at All Long Afterwards…**

“Aang, wake up. _Aang_ . I need you, get _up!”_

Aang tried hard to obey. The problem was, being asleep was cozy and warm, and being awake was harsh and cold, with Sokka’s absolutely maniacal face terrorizing him from the edge of his sleeping bag, where he sat cross-legged, surrounded by his carving tools and a large flask of the tea Iroh kept locked on the top shelf of his own pantry, marked, ‘FOR EMERGENCY USE ONLY.’

“I’m up,” he answered and immediately felt his eyes shut and his head hit the ground. 

Sokka was on him again, rattling his sleeping bag like he was trying to scare out an arctic snake. 

“Come on, you can’t abandon me now, this is serious!”

The desperate edge to his wail, and the timbre, helped rouse Aang enough to think slightly. He shoved upright and rubbed his eyes.

“Okay, but keep your voice down. You’ll wake up the whole village.”

That wasn’t quite true. The Southern Water Tribe had exploded in size over the past few years, with enough people now that there were more strangers than villagers, even to Katara and Sokka. It was one of the reasons none of them visited as often anymore, meaning any occasion to gather at the South Pole – such as the Winter Solstice – was truly cause for celebration. 

But here at the center of town, their group was tightly packed. Though not as tightly as they’d have liked.

Chief Hakoda’s rule that unmarried couples may not sleep in the same hut meant that he had to do a fair bit of shuffling when the whole group came to visit. So Toph bunked with Suki and Mai, Aang and Sokka usually ended up together, Katara stayed with Che and Ty Lee, and this time Zuko – to his own deep amusement – bedded down in Hakoda’s own hut, at the center of town. The chief insisted. He’d taken an immediate liking to Zuko (“It’s actually pretty nice to have a Firebender around during a South Pole winter,” Suki joked), though still not enough to bend his rule for his pleading son.

(It was the same story every time. “You are the _Firelord,”_ Sokka would whisper-scream. “You can do whatever you want; you don’t have to follow some dumb Water Tribe rule!” 

“It’s called diplomacy, Ambassador. And I think it’s sweet how much your dad cares. _Good night.”_ )

Sokka strung his latest creation under Aang’s nose.

“Whatever, how’s this one?”

Giving in to the inevitable, Aang blinked away the last blurry edges of sleep to study what he saw. Instantly, he felt wide awake.

“Sokka, it’s your best one! This has _got_ to be it!”

“D’you think?” Sokka sat back and looked critically at what he’d made. “I don’t know. It’s kind of ridiculous actually, maybe I should go back to the drawing board… ”

“No!” Aang blasted the pile of paper right out from under Sokka’s hand. He _did_ believe they’d found the winner, but he was not prepared to spend yet another night (of vacation!) discussing designs and weighing the pros and cons of various stones.

“Listen, I know you’re nervous. But he’s going to say yes! The necklace is just a formality; you don’t really have to give him anything, you just have to ask.”

“But it’s _not_ just a formality,” Sokka groaned, throwing himself facedown on the beaver-fox pelt. His voice was muffled against the fur. “Zuko gives me so much. I live in a freakin’ _palace_ because of him, and he never asks for anything for himself. You remember the anniversary lilies.”

“Didn’t he cry?”

“He cried! Over flowers! This has to really mean something.”

“It does!” Aang crawled out of his sleeping bag and sat himself comfortably on top. “The fact that you’re the one making it means everything, he’s going to love it.”

“Did you even _try_ to sleep, or have you been keeping Aang awake all night?”

Katara swept back the flap covering the entryway, still shrugging down her anorak. She settled beside Aang, smiling in a bemused, my-brother-is-an-idiot-but-I-love-him way. 

Sokka wasted no time holding up the necklace like a trophy, and Katara snatched it away just as fast.

 _“It’s beautiful!”_ She whispered, covering her mouth to hold in a little squeal of joy. “This is the one. Tell me it’s the one!”

“It’s our top contender, yes, but is it really the _best?”_ Sokka stroked his chin thoughtfully, and Aang saw him inching toward the reject pile. Quickly, Aang incinerated the paper instead, leaving a small mound of ash and a look of horror on Sokka’s face.

“It’s for your own good! You’re ready, Sokka!”

“No, I’m not! What if he hates it?”

Katara rolled her eyes.

“You’ve been up way too long. Zuko loves you, stupid. He saves all the little doodles you make during council meetings, so I think you’re safe with a gorgeous, hand-crafted betrothal necklace.”

The flap rustled again and in shuffled Toph, rolled up in a heap of blankets.

“Are we still going on about the necklace thing?”

“We are still going on about the necklace thing,” Katara confirmed, passing over the item in question as Toph dropped to Sokka’s sleeping bag. 

She ran her fingertips over the cool blue stone and hummed in approval.

“Is this what fire looks like?”

“Yep, and waves,” Aang added. “The design kind of shifts from flames above and below, at the center, to ocean waves curling down the sides.”

“Sounds perfect.” Toph handed back the necklace to Sokka and disappeared into her blanket cocoon. “Good one, Ponytail.”

“You guys are just being nice,” Sokka moaned, clutching the stone in his fist. 

“Yeah, that sounds like me,” Toph said in the deadpan she was perfecting from Mai.

“Is it really so hard to accept that we actually believe in you, and this relationship?” Katara asked.

“Well, so what if it is?! This is the _actual_ Firelord we’re talking about, and who am I to just go, Hey Zuko, you busy later? I was thinking we could say a nice big Fuck You to a hundred years of Fire Nation tradition and go get ourselves mar–”

“I’m always down to say fuck you to Fire Nation tradition.” Zuko strolled inside the hut, as casually as if they’d planned this midnight meeting beforehand. He yawned, oblivious to the terror his presence had inspired. “What are you guys talking about?”

Sokka grimaced, although that might have had to do more with his moving to sit directly on top of his carving tools, and shot Aang a helpless look.

“We were just…deciding what color the Fire Nation should start wearing,” Aang invented wildly. “All the red is so harsh; you need something fresh and inviting, something friendly. Maybe pink?”

“Yeah, I like pink.” Zuko snuggled up beside Sokka, and immediately reached behind to pull out a chisel. “Why’s this here? You still working on that kayak repair for your dad?”

With a heavy sigh, Sokka pulled away and got to his feet. Katara grabbed Aang’s hand and squeezed it excitedly. 

“No. And we weren’t talking about Fire Nation wardrobes earlier, even though I do look amazing in pink. We were talking about something I have for you.”

Sokka opened his fist and held aloft the necklace to Zuko, who took it slowly. His forehead lined, his eyes went wide.

“This is…”

“It’s my betrothal necklace to you.” Sokka swallowed hard, and Aang could feel the tension in all his clenched limbs, the rigidity of his spine, the forced determination in his voice. “If you want to accept it, it tells everyone in the Water Tribe that you’re spoken for. That you want to marry me.”

Zuko stopped gently thumbing the stone in his hand and looked up with an unrecognizably chaotic expression, not unlike the one Sokka had greeted Aang with this early morning. But then he frowned, and Aang felt his heart sink, wondering if they’d just unintentionally destroyed Sokka by insisting Zuko would say yes.

 _“You want to marry me?_ Me?!” 

Sokka blinked.

“Of course! You!”

“Why!” 

Zuko seemed frantic, rising up to pace around the hut anxiously. 

Sokka made to reach for him several times, then let his arms flap uselessly, growing just as agitated.

“Because I love you! Because you make me feel happy and important and loved and I want to spend the rest of our lives together doing the same for you!”

Zuko whirled around.

“But I have the most stressful job that there is!”

“So now I can help you more!”

“My dad and sister are incarcerated!”

“I know, I helped make that happen!”

“I’m a public figure! You’ll be stuck under all the same scrutiny!”

“I already am, it sucks, but you’re worth it!”

Zuko stared blankly for a moment, clearly trying to come up with more reasons he was unmarriable. Seemingly without noticing, he touched his face lightly. His scar.

“But I’m…”

“Handsome beyond compare, I know.”

“I’m the sole heir to the throne! I have to have babies.”

Sokka waved this off and approached, pulling their foreheads together with a gentle hand to the back of Zuko’s head.

“Zuko, I promise, if that’s what you want, I will get you a baby,” he whispered. “Just… please. Don’t keep me in suspense. None of these things change the way I feel about you at all. So what do you say?”

There was a long, anxious pause and Aang wondered again how to apologize to Sokka for so seriously misjudging the situation – Sorry Your Boyfriend Doesn’t Want to Marry You was too long to fit on a cake – before Zuko seemed to melt, leaning into press a kiss to Sokka’s troubled face. 

“Yes,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around Sokka’s neck. “Of course, yes.”

 _“Fuck_ yeah!” Toph stomped to her feet and the whole hut bounced off the ground. “Finally, that was getting painful…”

“Congratulations!” Katara cut in, throwing her arms about Sokka and Zuko both. She was already close to crying, and Aang couldn’t blame her. The careful way Sokka swept Zuko’s hair aside and tied on the necklace, and the reverence with which Zuko touched it there at his neck inspired a warm, fluttering glow within Aang’s very spirit. 

Sokka admired the necklace with a fond smile, holding both Zuko’s hands in his own.

“Okay, now everyone be prepared to do this all over again in front of Dad and Iroh, and I need you to really sell it, people, they’ll kill me if they know they missed the proposal. I want tears!”

Katara groaned and hit her brother, and Toph was insisting that the entire village already had bets placed on his proposing for the Solstice: she herself laying down thirty gold pieces that he chickened out at the last minute, which had Sokka sputtering with indignation, and Zuko laughing, and Aang hung back for a moment, just enjoying the scene.

They had saved the world for this. Remembering his very first day out of the iceberg, here, when the four of them met for the first time on three different sides of a war, there was no telling that the years would lead to all this love. Was it destiny? Luck? The universe having a phenomenal sense of humor? 

“Aang! Tell them I did _so_ rehearse with the ‘down on one knee’ part, and _you_ said it was “a little desperate.””

Pulled down from his musings, Aang grinned.

“Because it was! Plus you slipped on the ice and hit yourself in the head on your knee; it was _not_ smooth, my good hotman. You couldn’t even hear me say yes.”

  
  



End file.
